OCD

The showers are becoming longer,

Can’t wash off the unclean.

No matter how hard I scrub,

Cannot scrub off what I’ve seen.

Your touch is now toxic,

and the air is too filthy to breathe,

if you’re too close – it makes me sick,

and a filthy doorknob is enough to make my inner animal scream.

I live in fear,

That from someone’s presence only I will fall ill,

and I’m only safe at home,

and after a 40 minute shower I feel dirty, still.

Please, do not touch my things,

please, do not touch my skin,

even though you may be clean,

the most dirt still comes from within.

 

7 thoughts on “OCD

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s